


and you'll say, wake up (get out of your head)

by janie_tangerine



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: ADWD spoilers, Bittersweet, Dreams vs. Reality, Dreamsharing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Torture, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Music, M/M, slight spoilers from the Theon Winds of Winter preview chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 21:14:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Robb puts the bow down on the ground and looks at him and he smiles, and that’s when Theon realizes that this must be an hallucination or something like that, because Robb wouldn’t smile at him like this now, so sweetly, so carefree.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Robb?” His own voice is low, barely audible, and Robb moves closer, his eyes suddenly turning sad.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Theon,” he answers, his voice sure instead, the same way it was when he spoke to his bannermen.</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Theon flinches. “That’s not – I shouldn’t –”</i></p><p> </p><p><i>"</i>Theon<i>,” Robb interrupts, moving slightly closer. “You can stay, if you want. But you can’t wake up.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	and you'll say, wake up (get out of your head)

**Author's Note:**

> Throbb week fic the seventh! And this one was actually written with it in mind ;) so uhm, it happened that the day the finale aired [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IHVxuQ2M5GU) came up on random on itunes. Aaaand I have no clue why I listened to it and then _this_ happened but here we go I guess - also this is supposed to cover from just after the RW to some time after the WOW preview chapter throughout ADWD, so while nothing of the heavy/triggering content is in this (since it's mostly all dreams) it's all implied/referenced. The title is from the reference song, nothing belongs to me (I wish), and I'm going to stop spamming the A/Ns now.

He’s not entirely sure that he’s not hallucinating, the first time he dreams of Robb.

He doesn’t even know if he can call it a dream. Well, it’s better than the nightmares he used to have when Robb would storm into Winterfell (or the Dreadfort) and take his head, or that one he had when his name was still – was still Theon. The one where Robb was covered in blood and his wolf was too, in that great hall.

But this one isn’t a nightmare. It’s not – it’s _different_ though.

For a moment he thinks he’s hallucinating. Because he’s in Winterfell’s yard, and Winterfell is still whole but empty, and Winterfell never was empty and isn’t whole now.

And he’s whole now. He has his finger back, and his nails, and his groin isn’t flaring in pain, and he’s wearing clothes – decent clothes.

Then he looks up and sees Robb in front of him – he has a bow in his hands and he’s aiming for the target, Grey Wind crouched at his feet, and he looks the way he had when Theon saw him last.

He shoots the arrow – it hits the center. For a moment Theon thinks _of course he would, I taught him_ and then he remembers that this can’t be real.

And then – Robb puts the bow down on the ground and looks at him and he smiles, and that’s when Theon realizes that this must be an hallucination or something like that, because Robb wouldn’t smile at him like this now, so sweetly, so carefree.

“Robb?” His own voice is low, barely audible, and Robb moves closer, his eyes suddenly turning sad.

“Theon,” he answers, his voice sure instead, the same way it was when he spoke to his bannermen.

Theon flinches. “That’s not – I shouldn’t –”

“ _Theon_ ,” Robb interrupts, moving slightly closer. “You can stay, if you want. But you can’t wake up.”

Theon doesn’t get it, he doesn’t, and then Winterfell disappears as he feels a heavy boot kicking him in the stomach and a different voice tells him that _Reek, it’s time to wake up_.

\--

The second time, Robb’s eyes widen in understanding the moment he sees Theon.

“You know then,” he says, sounding resigned, his hand going down to pet Grey Wind’s head.

“I – you’re – you’re _dead_?”

Robb shrugs and crouches down on the ground, his fingers still scratching behind Grey Wind’s fur.

“I’m dead,” Robb agrees, looking up at him, and now he looks just sad, in a way Theon has never seen him. His knees give out and he falls on them in front of Robb, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I didn’t – I couldn’t believe him – he said – he said they slew you, he said he’d bring me your head if I wasn’t convinced, and – I didn’t – _how_ –”

“It’s true,” Robb interrupts him. “We both are. But you aren’t.”

“I might as well be now,” Theon whispers, realizing that his only hope of receiving a quick death if Robb ever found out about what’s happened until now is gone forever.

“You can stay here,” Robb says again. “As long as you don’t wake up.”

If it were for him, he’d stay asleep forever, but he doesn’t know how long later – not much – he’s being taken by the hair and forced on his feet – _Reek, time to wake up_.

\--

“Theon?”

“That’s not my name,” he whimpers, cradling his left hand to his chest – it’s whole here, but it’s not in the real world, where it’s lacking another finger now.

“Yes it is,” Robb says, reaching out and taking that hand in between his.

“No – no it isn’t, it’s –”

“ _Theon_ ,” Robb says again, his voice so impossibly soft. “Don’t wake up,” he whispers as he kisses the back of Theon’s hand.

 _I don’t want to, I don’t, I don’t_ , he thinks, and for a bit he doesn’t, relishing the feeling of Robb’s fingers cradling his own – this feels a lot more vivid than a normal dream would – and then he cries _no_ as he’s shaken awake all over again – _Reek, wake up now_.

\--

His hair is still dark and his hands are still whole and his feet are as well but he’s shaking and keeping his eyes resolutely closed, and he barely feels the strong, whole hands taking his shoulders.

“Theon.”

“That’s not – it’s _not my name_.”

“You know it is,” Robb says softly, and he can feel Grey Wind curling next to his side.

“I can’t – I don’t –”

“It’s fine,” he hears Robb saying as he pulls him closer, his head going on Robb’s shoulder.

“It rhymes with freak,” he sobs as Robb’s warm hands press on his back and haul him in.

“Don’t wake up,” Robb says again, sounding almost pained, and he wishes he could never, he wants to stay, he wants to, but it doesn’t last as long as he’d like, and then –

_Reek, Reek, you should be awake already. Up!_

\--

He loses count. It doesn’t happen every night, and sometimes it happens during the day when he’s in the darkness of his cell and he wouldn’t know the difference anyway, and in his dreams (dreams?) he’s always whole even if he never feels like it, and Robb calls him by that other name that he’s trying so hard to forget, and he never wants to leave but in the end he always does.

\--

“I couldn’t do anything,” he sobs one day.

In truth, he’s sleeping on the ground at the foot of Ramsay’s bed, and his mouth tastes horribly bitter and he’s trying to forget the way Jeyne had pleaded at him before – no, her name isn’t Jeyne, it should be Arya.

“Theon?”

“I couldn’t – she asked me and I could just tell her to go along with it, but what could I have done? I can’t do anything, I’m not _him_ anymore, I’m not, you shouldn’t call me like that, _it rhymes with pain_ -”

“No, you are,” Robb says gently as his fingers wrap around Theon’s again. “You’re better than that. You always were better than that.” One of his hands goes to Theon’s cheek, still so gentle that it almost hurts. If only these dreams didn’t feel so much like reality.

“I’m not. I can’t be. I never was.” He’s outright sobbing by now.

“I think I know better. Try not to wake up,” Robb says softly, kissing his temple, and it’s too early when he has to open his eyes.

_Reek, how are you still asleep? Wake up!_

\--

“I should have died with you,” he sobs openly, his hands grabbing Robb’s wrists, hoping against hope that this one dream lasts a bit more than usual, that he doesn’t have to go back until as late as possible. “I should have been with you, I should have never stayed there, I never – it was the only place I should have been, I’m _sorry_ –”

“I know,” Robb replies softly. “I’ve always known. I’ve known since the moment you saw me first. This is happening in your head, of course I would. And I knew that from before, too.”

“… what? How –”

“I knew you couldn’t hurt my brothers for real,” Robb says again, moving closer, his fingers moving to Theon’s neck, cradling it carefully.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, his voice coming out strangled. “I don’t deserve that, I don’t – I can’t do anything, I couldn’t ever do anything right and you were wrong, I’m not worth that. I’m not worth anything.”

“You know that’s not true,” Robb says again, still so calmly. “You can do a lot better than this. You do deserve a lot better than this.”

“I’m –”

“You’re _Theon_ ,” he interrupts.

“It rhymes with weak –”

“It rhymes with _nothing._ ” And then Robb takes his face in between his hands, still so very gently. “And I know you’re not.”

“That I’m not…?”

“Weak, idiot.” And then Robb kisses his cheek, once, and his eyes are so very blue as he stares at him in the eyes again. “Wake up now,” he says, and he sounds almost as if he regrets it.

“No. No, I don’t want to, I don’t –”

“ _Theon_. You have to wake up.”

He opens his eyes and he does.

\--

“I did it,” he says the next time he dreams. “I did it, I – we _flew_ ,” he whispers, almost not believing it.

“Don’t sound like that,” Robb replies, sounding almost amused. “What did I tell you?”

“I didn’t know I could,” he answers.

“I did,” Robb breathes against his cheek. “I always did,” he says, and he almost sounds proud and Theon doesn’t think he wants to wake up from this.

“Please tell me I can stay,” he almost begs. This is better than the real world, at least here he’s whole and his hair is dark and his groin isn’t flayed and Robb doesn’t hate him (Robb is _here_ at all).

“I didn’t tell you to wake up, did I?” Robb answers, and when Theon does, later, maybe a long time, it’s not with haste.

\--

“Are you real?” Theon whispers against Robb’s mouth the day after Stannis Baratheon doesn’t take his head because a raven from his Hand arrived with the proof that he hadn’t killed any of the Stark children.

“You’re not making me up,” Robb agrees, his breath hot against Theon’s skin. “But I’m still dead,” he sighs. “And I know you’re sleeping a lot more than usual lately. Aren’t you?”

He shrugs, moving closer. “Why wouldn’t I? I can now. I didn’t want to be awake then, why would I want that now?”

“Because you had a reason then,” Robb sighs, his fingers carding through Theon’s hair. “But you don’t now.”

“What reason would I even have?”

“You have a life.”

“And what a life,” Theon says, sounding for a moment the way he used to, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“You’re wrong,” Robb says. “But by all means. Don’t wake up if you don’t want to.”

\--

“Don’t,” Robb says, his fingertips running over Theon’s brow. He feels queer, maybe too hot, maybe the contrary, and his vision is slightly blurry now – everything looks brighter, and Robb’s eyes are so blue and his hair is so red, and Theon doesn’t ever want to leave.

“Don’t what?”

“You survived that bastard and you let a fever kill you?”

“What’s even the point?” he sobs. “I should be with you anyway. I might as well die.”

“No, you might not,” Robb says, shaking his head. “You _do_ have a life, idiot. Stop thinking that your sister doesn’t care. And you know that Jeyne does. That’s at least two people that don’t want you dead.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I do.” The same way he always does. “Damn you, for how much I wish it could be different, we can’t do this.”

“What?”

“Do you think it doesn’t get lonely in here?” Robb says, sounding pained. “But I have no right to stay that much longer. And you have to let me go.”

“No. No, you can’t ask that, I can’t –”

“I never said you have to forget my existence.” Robb almost laughs – Theon can hear it in his voice. “But this can’t go on. Me being dead doesn’t mean that you can’t live your life. I think you earned that, you know.”

“It’s not _right_ if you aren’t there,” he whispers, shaking his head as Robb’s hands cup his cheeks again.

“Well, it was the same for me, but it changes nothing. I’m not going anywhere. But you don’t have to do this. I’ll be here when it’s your time.” Theon stands still as Robb’s mouth presses against his the way it always used to, lips against lips, gentle in ways he had forgotten he had ever experienced, and he’s smiling again as he moves back.

He sits up and grabs the bow he’s never used since the first time.

“Let’s see who’s the better shot?” he says, handing it over, and Theon takes it with hands that are whole and will never be again if this is the last time. A second one appears out of thin air in Robb’s own, and Theon relishes the feeling as he grabs an arrow from a pile that has showed up behind him.

They shoot at the same time. Robb’s shot goes slightly to the left of the target’s center, Theon’s hits the center straight.

“Well, I didn’t do too bad,” Robb says, and his hair and eyes are so bright now, Theon thinks his eyes are hurting. The bows disappears and Theon hears Grey Wind growling softly from somewhere near his feet.

He feels it fully when Robb’s lips kiss his forehead and then his eyelids after he closes them because it was hurting to keep them open, and his mouth again.

“Theon,” Robb says. “You have to wake up.”

He doesn’t want to, but Robb asked, and so he takes a breath and commits the way Robb’s body feels against his to memory before he opens his eyes and he hears his sister screaming _well good thing he woke up, finally._ He hears Jeyne weeping in relief somewhere near.

He keeps his eyes open.

\--

_“No one here minds, you know,” Asha tells him a while later, when the fever’s gone and he’s stopped sleeping as much and those dreams aren’t there anymore._

_“What?”_

_“You don’t need to wear gloves. Or to look at us as if we’re going to leave any moment. I don’t care. And neither does she.”_

_“How would you even know that?”_

_“Spending a week with someone making sure that you don’t die on our watch will make wonders in that sense,” Asha replies with a shrug, and then she leaves him staring at the ruined yard where he used to practice with Robb and Jon once._

_Jeyne is down there, wrapped in a gray Stark cloak that could have belonged to Sansa, and she seems to be staring at the still burned pieces of woods cluttering the ground._

_After a bit, she turns her back on it and looks up towards his window, and when she sees him looking down at her she raises a hand, smiling tentatively, but it’s real and he has no clue of why would anyone even look at him like that. But –_ you do have a life _, Robb had said, and he’s not too sure of that but maybe he could at least try to live it, couldn’t he?_

_He slowly takes off the glove from his left hand and raises it back, forcing himself to at least curl his lips upwards – he’s not going to show his teeth, replaced or not, but she deserves more than a scowl._

_Her grin gets wider at that, and maybe his own does, too._

__I’m awake _, he thinks, and he smiles a little wider still._

End.


End file.
